


Feast

by HollowMashiro



Series: Webtoons Collection [3]
Category: Room of Swords (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, Multicultural Mashup, holiday fic, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:33:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21951331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollowMashiro/pseuds/HollowMashiro
Summary: It was all Ciboulette’s fault. At least, she’s who Kodya would blame for this mess, anyway.
Relationships: Gyrus Axelei/Kodya Karevic
Series: Webtoons Collection [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1498211
Comments: 7
Kudos: 72





	Feast

It was all Ciboulette’s fault. At least, she’s who Kodya would blame for this mess, anyway. After all, if she hadn’t made that offhand remark about missing Christmas, and Nephthys hadn’t asked what that was, and Cib and Gyrus hadn’t explained what it was, and Ragan hadn’t overheard and started talking about Yuletide, and some of the others hadn’t joined in to explain _their_ winter traditions, and Xinju hadn’t pointed out that there were no seasonal changes in the Room of Swords, and Cib hadn’t suggested that they throw a multicultural winter festival to raise everyone’s spirits, and everyone hadn’t excitedly agreed… then Kodya wouldn’t be running around in this jungle-like realm, collecting ingredients for the massive mutant hybrid winter festival everyone had decided to throw.

Irritably, Kodya wiped a trickle of sweat that was stinging his eyes and focused on the set of animal tracks in front of him. This particular jungle realm was host to all kinds of exotic plants and animals suitable for food, but not a single healing item, and barely any gear. Kodya was picked along with Cib to bring back as much as they could for Olimedes to work with because of their abilities to hide from, track, and tame living creatures. Other small groups of two and three had been dispatched to other realms to pick up other foodstuffs and materials for decorations. Olimedes, Gyrus, and a few others were overworked cooking unfamiliar foods and designing kitchen appliances for those who insisted that their festival food had to be cooked the traditional way, despite the lack of traditional ingredients.

So Kodya wasn’t the only one working hard to make this celebration happen. But he was still allowed to complain bitterly, at least to himself, about the heat and the humidity and the massive stinging bugs that made this realm detestable.

“Which way, Kody?” Cib asked, sparkling into view. She looked equally sweaty and miserable, so at least Kodya wasn’t suffering alone.

Kodya pointed. “This way. Stay hidden.” If they could just capture this last herd of part-reptile chicken-deer, they should have enough game to return to the Room.

It took the two of them another half-hour to catch up almost to where the herd had stopped to graze. Kodya stayed completely still, even when Cib, still invisible, touched his arm to let him know where she was. Kodya rubbed his hands together, using a new technique called “lure” he’d developed just for hunting for the festival, and attached it to Cib.

And then the communicator attached to Kodya’s hip rang.

Cib cursed under her breath and leaped into the small clearing, but it was too late: most of the herd had already fled, with only a few creatures caught by the lure. Kodya sighed heavily and pulled out the communicator while Cib rounded up the handful of creatures they’d caught.

“What?” Kodya said irritably. He usually wasn’t one to snap, but the heat and frustration was making him ill-tempered.

Olimedes’ stressed voice crackled through the communicator. “Sorry, but do you guys have all the stuff I need? All the other groups are back, and I _really_ need to get going on the meat.”

Kodya twitched.

* * *

When Kodya and Cib finally returned to the Room of Swords, they were greeted with a face-full of a _massive_ evergreen-like tree that Ragan had somehow managed to haul from one of the realms. Kodya would be impressed if he weren’t so exhausted. And also if Ragan weren’t currently in the middle of a heated argument with Don about setting the entire tree on fire.

“You can’t have a proper Yule log without the entire tree!” Ragan protested.

“And just _where_ is the whole thing going to fit?” Don retorted, looking more worked up than usual. He gestured around the main hall, where colorful banners were being hung next to branches cut from the tree. A big table had been set up, large enough for everyone, and it took up most of the space.

Cib blew her bangs from her eyes before dumping the contents of her inventory in front of Kodya. “You take all this to the kitchens; I need to help deal with this,” she said, hurrying over to Ragan and Don before Kodya could protest.

Kodya groaned. His inventory was already almost full; he would have to lug a few of the creatures to the kitchens by hand.

 _It’s for everyone to enjoy_ , he reminded himself, hauling everything into the residential wing. He really needed a cold shower and a nap after everything.

The kitchen was a disaster area. Ingredients of all kinds were scattered on all surfaces. Olimedes looked simultaneously like he was having fun and was on the brink of a panic attack from having to make all the food. And it seemed like Gyrus had been roped into helping out beyond making ovens for the more traditional cooks, levitating several ingredients at one time and completely uncaring that he was half-covered in some sort of sticky fruit paste.

“ _Meat!_ ” Olimedes screeched, noticing Kodya in an instant. He pointed to a relatively empty countertop. “Put it right over there, just pile it all up, and then _get out I need my space to get all this prepared_.”

Wide-eyed, Kodya did as he’d been instructed; he’d _never_ seen Olimedes this worked up before. He glanced over at Gyrus, who shrugged helplessly and a little wryly. Kodya managed a small grin back; it was nice to know that _everyone_ was feeling the pressure to make this celebration spectacular.

On the way to his room, Kodya ran into Feather hiding out in a corner, half-dozing. He blinked and them. They blinked sleepily back.

“Look, dude, I got, like, nothing to contribute right now. Wake me up when people have calmed down,” Feather said.

“You’re not feeling the stress?” Kodya asked.

Feather shook their head. “Nah, man. Everyone’s freaking out over trying to make a great time for everyone else, and I’m not about that kinda stress. Least it’s a change of pace from normal, but it would be a lot more rad if people just chilled and enjoyed the stuff they’ve got together.”

Kodya nodded at Feather tiredly; they did have a good point. Relaxing with a cold shower and a nap would be just what Kodya needed, and hopefully things would have calmed down by the time he was needed again.

* * *

Kodya was woken by a banging on his door, and then Xinju poked his head in Kodya’s room without even checking if Kodya was decent.

“Get up, Kodya! We almost started without you!” he said.

“Wait, what?” Kodya shot up, frantically blinking the sleep from his eyes. “How long was I asleep?!”

“Long enough,” Xinju said, rolling his eyes as Kodya hastily threw on clothes over his undergarments. “C’mon!”

Kodya ran to the main hall, with Xinju following behind. Kodya burst into the main hall… only to find that people were still putting up decorations. The massive evergreen Ragan had brought in was standing in a corner and brushing the ceiling, while a smaller tree, stripped of its branches, had been set aside for Ragan’s Yule log. A few covered dishes were waiting on the table, and a bizarre cross between an alter and a nativity had been set up next to the console.

Kodya shot a glare at Xinju. The celebration obviously wasn’t ready.

Xinju shrugged guilelessly. “Look, Olimedes is about to either have a heart attack or a meltdown in the kitchen,” he said dryly. “You can calm him down, can’t you?”

Kodya ran his hands over his face and groaned. “You’re terrible.”

Xinju shrugged. “Hey, it got you out here quickly, didn’t it? So go.”

Kodya sighed heavily and shook his head, but made his way towards the kitchens without further protest. The kitchen looked like an even bigger wreck than before, and a handful of discarded brown cupcake wrappers informed Kodya that someone, probably Olimedes, had eaten several of them to keep up with the demands of cooking.

Kodya heard Olimedes before he saw him, muttering about how scared he was that people wouldn’t like what he’d made.

“I’ve never made some of these things before, or even heard of the ingredients!” Olimedes moaned.

“Everything you make tastes great, Oli,” Gyrus replied soothingly, still out of sight.

“This is different, though! Some of these dishes are so special to people; I’m scared I’ve gotten them wrong,” Olimedes said, sounding like he was about to cry. Kodya rounded a corner to find Olimedes sprawled in front of the new ovens, face buried in his hands. Gyrus was sitting next to him, rubbing his back soothingly, and he looked up as Kodya knelt in front of Olimedes.

“If you even got close to the normal taste of someone’s home, I think they’d be grateful,” Kodya said gently.

Olimedes squeaked and looked up, his eyes looking a little puffy. “O-oh, Kodya! I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier! I’m just really stressed!”

Kodya snorted. “It’s fine. That’s why I’m here, honestly. You sound like you could use a little help.” Kodya held out a hand, which was already starting to glimmer with blue. “May I?”

Olimedes opened his mouth, then shut it and shook his head. “Why not,” he sighed.

As soon as Kodya touched Olimedes’ shoulder, the effect was immediate. The poor man slumped over and started drooling, almost unconscious. Kodya exchanged a look with Gyrus before sighing and sitting down.

“I’m starting to think this celebration has just added _more_ stress to people’s shoulders instead of less,” Kodya said dryly.

Gyrus snorted and shook his head ruefully. “I think people got over-excited and over-ambitious,” he admitted. “Mashing together preparations for all these different traditions has been…”

“Hard,” Kodya deadpanned. “Have you seen the nativity they’re putting together in the main hall?”

“I’ve been stuck in here, helping Olimedes and the people who want to cook their own dishes,” Gyrus replied. “Sounds like you’re implying it’s non-traditional.”

“Well,” Kodya said wryly, “I’m _fairly_ certain that the birth of Christ was not attended by Buddha, Amun-Ra, Saturn, and various other deities.”

Gyrus started snickering. “Definitely a non-traditional nativity,” he snorted. “I’m not sure what I expected from a celebration from such a mishmash of cultures.”

“Honestly, I’ll be excited to try all the food,” Kodya said wistfully. “I know Olimedes only has weird ingredients to work with, but there’s no way I’d be able to try everything back home.”

“I know what you mean,” Gyrus said. “Some of the things Olimedes has been whipping up? The recipes probably were straight-up lost to history.”

“Do you think he’s okay now?” Kodya wondered.

“If he’s not, we could definitely use an extra hand to help out,” Gyrus said hopefully.

Kodya chuckled as he released the soothe spell on Olimedes. “How could I say no to that? Maybe I’ll even learn a thing or two,” he said. Not to mention that hanging out with Gyrus beat wrangling the decorations into place.

Olimedes blinked back into awareness, still a little dazed, but seeming significantly calmer. “Oh, wow. Thank you, Kodya,” he said, smiling a little. “I feel so much better…! I’ve got a lot of food to make, so let’s get to it!”

* * *

By the time they’d finished cooking, Kodya was in awe and slightly terrified of Olimedes’ skill in the kitchen. Feather had finally decided to chip in and carry labeled dishes out to the main hall, and sometime in the midst of the cooking haze, Ragan had ventured into the kitchen briefly to ask what they all wanted as ornaments on the tree, if anything.

“Okay,” Olimedes breathed. Some of his hair was pointing straight up, coated in sticky sauce. “I think we’re done.”

Gyrus slumped against a countertop, even dirtier than before with egg in his hair. “Fantastic. Let’s get cleaned up and then get out to the main hall,” he sighed. “I think decorations have been almost finished.”

Kodya grimaced as he looked down at himself, splattered with flour and sauces and at least two eggs. (Damn Gyrus for being better at egg-throwing and catching with his powers, though they shouldn’t have goofed off in the first place.) Another shower sounded like an excellent idea.

Half an hour and one shower later, Kodya was towel-drying his hair when his door was banged on again.

“Hurry up! They’re about to start!” Xinju hollered from outside. At least he didn’t stick his head in Kodya’s room again. “I mean it this time!”

Kodya shook his head but proceeded to throw on some clean clothes and return to the main hall. His breath caught as he passed through the entryway. Multicolored banners and evergreen wreaths hung from the statues, and someone had sprinkled small iridescent feathers and red flowers on the floor. A more familiar Christmas tree stood in one corner, decorated by wooden and metallic ornaments as well as some of the smaller decorative loot they’d gotten from the realms. The nativity and alter stood in another corner, representing a mishmash of religions and pantheons; in front of it was a small sacrificial alter with one of the dead reptile chicken-deer Kodya and Cib had hunted down. Unlit candles, including one full menorah, were affixed to nooks and crannies, soon to be lit; a handful of paper lanterns were strung from the ceiling. In front of the doorway to the realms was Ragan’s Yule log, burning merrily. And, of course, the banquet table dominated the center of the room, laden with foods from all over the world.

Kodya noticed as Gyrus stepped up on a raised platform and cleared his throat. Everybody in the Room of Swords, currently present in the main hall, fell silent.

“Well, Don’s given me the honor of speaking to you all. I’ll keep it short and sweet; I know we’re all hungry,” Gyrus chuckled. “It was Ciboulette’s idea to have this in the first place, but we all came together to make it happen, and a special thanks to Olimedes for preparing almost all the food. We’ve been stuck in a nightmare… but we can still celebrate how we’ve persevered. We can celebrate bonding despite our differences, surviving in the face of adversity, and being able to share our homes with each other, at least in this small way.” Gyrus raised his hand clenched in a fist. “To freedom! To each other!”

The gathered group burst into cheers. With a grin, Gyrus levitated some small branches from the Yule fire and sent them spinning around the room, lighting all the candles and eliciting some impressed whistles.

“Let’s eat!” Gyrus announced, and there was a thundering of feet as people converged on the banquet table. Gyrus hopped off the platform, and Kodya was fairly sure he was the only one who saw deep exhaustion flicker across Gyrus’s face before Gyrus headed toward the table.

Kodya sighed. Gyrus still hadn’t admitted what was bothering him. But at the very least, Kodya could be there for Gyrus.

Kodya sidled up to Gyrus and grabbed a plate. He grinned at the startled look he received. “Want to try some of this stuff together?” Kodya asked cheerfully.

“Sure,” Gyrus replied, the shadows receding from his eyes. Kodya counted it as a win.

They started with a savory African meat stew called tajine and then movde to the Maori food toroi, made from some kind of fermented shellfish and water plant. Kodya choked on the toroi, but he forgot his embarrassment when he saw Gyrus’s eyes light up when they come to the kimchi. It wasn’t Gyrus’s favorite dish, but it was traditional for wintertime.

Kodya stifled a gasp when he noticed that the next dish was pirogi, and he felt no shame in loading up his plate with both the kind filled with meat and potatoes and the kind filled with a sweet fruit filling. Kodya bit into one and hummed, pleased. They didn’t taste quite right, likely because Olimedes was working with secondhand knowledge and strange ingredients, but it was still a tiny piece of home to savor in this strange place.

“You look happy, kid,” Gyrus teased.

Kodya glanced back at him, eyes wide and innocent, and nodded.

Gyrus grabbed a sweet pirogi and chewed on it. “Not bad,” he said thoughtfully. “I’ve never had one of these before.”

Kodya sighed happily and would have been content to stay there, but then Anan complained from behind them, “Oi, you’re holding up the line! Keep moving!”

They sampled the spicy Ethiopian stew of wat, and the fried traditional Jewish latkes. They tried the Chinese rice porridge làbāzhōu in honor of the Buddhist holiday of Laba and the Roman vitella fricta, fried veal-like strips with sweet fruits. There was the Indian sweetmeats of til-gul laadoo, a bûche de noël cake baked from Cib’s special family recipe, the German fruitcake stöllen, tiger nut sweets from Egypt, and three different kinds of alcohols from Ragan’s Norse mead recipe, an Inca beer recipe, and the eggnog-like rompope from Mexico.

And all around them, there was the sound of happy people sharing their holiday traditions and stories from home against the backdrop of flickering candlelight and the crackling Yule log. Gyrus and Kodya eventually wound up near the Christmas tree, where they could admire the carved ornaments hung from the tree representing cultures from all over the world and from all different times.

“I suppose the silver lining to all this would be that it’s brought us all together, when we normally wouldn’t have met at all,” Gyrus murmured pensively as they wandered toward the Yule log, his eyes wandering over all the festival-goers.

Kodya opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by a triumphant hoot from Ragan. “You two fell for it, I can’t believe it!” she cackled. “Cib and Feather have been telling me that _this_ tradition has endured even since my time, so you two must know what that means!” She pointed to something above their heads.

Kodya looked up. Hanging there, innocently hidden in the shadows, was a sprig of mistletoe. Ragan had to have specifically asked Olimedes to make it, because none of the plants and animals in the realms were quite equivalent to the real things.

“Wait, what’s that?” Nephthys wondered.

“Frigga’s son Baldr was slain by a spear made of mistletoe, but he was revived with her tears,” Ragan started to explain. “Ever since then, it’s a symbol of peace and love, and you’re supposed to—”

Kodya caught Gyrus’s chin in one hand, leaned down, and kissed him. Later, Kodya would blame it on the alcohol, but he always knew that he wanted to, regardless of the alcohol.

There was some gasping from the onlookers and delighted squealing from Nephthys. But Kodya only had eyes for the way Gyrus had turned a beet red, completely surprised but not unhappy. One hand fidgeted at Gyrus’s side, almost like he wanted to grab Kodya for another kiss but wasn’t quite brave enough to go for it. He was _so cute._

…Kodya really needed to sober up before he did something stupid. Stupider. He set his empty plate on a bench, swiped one last pirogi from the table, and wandered back towards the residential areas, ignoring all attempts at conversation.

But before he could make it to his room, Gyrus caught up with him and grabbed him by the wrist. “That kiss,” he demanded. “Did you mean it?”

Kodya looked Gyrus in the eye. “Yes,” he replied honestly. He smirked, a bit self-depreciatingly. “Sorry, I should have asked first—”

Gyrus cut him off by surging up and kissing him again. Nothing long or deep, but enough to shut him up. “Now we’re even,” he breathed, flushed.

“Ghh,” Kodya replied eloquently.

“Get some rest,” Gyrus said. And then he was gone before Kodya could formulate a reply.

“Merry Christmas,” Kodya finally said to the empty air, smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> We don't know the ethnicities of the people who got devoured during the Incident, so I added a few cultures that seemed neat to this mix. I hope I was able to capture things accurately, given that the celebration wound up as a cultural mashup. Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
